


Meet Me in the Woods

by nolifeisenough



Category: Gravity Falls, Over the Garden Wall (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Monster Falls, Deerper, beatrice!dipper, essentially, except beatrice doesnt exist, in terms of timeline this is after hard times at the huskin' bee, it's basically just deerper, kind of??, no joke, pinescone if you squint, this fic is my baby ive been writing and rewriting the plot since november 2015, words i never thought i'd say
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2018-08-16 07:00:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8092276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nolifeisenough/pseuds/nolifeisenough
Summary: Two children lost in the woods, and another, straight-up lost. The demon in his head and hooves in the place of feet don't make things any easier.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Donteatacowman](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Donteatacowman/gifts).



__

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

_“Three hundred fourty-two thousand nine hundred seventy-seven, three hundred fourty-two thousand nine hundred seventy-eight, three hundred fourty-two thousand nine hundred seventy-nine…”_

The shrill voice continued to count, unstoppable, seemingly, in its pursuit to irritate Dipper. After he'd remarked on the absence of means to tell how much time had passed, Bill had decided to be 'helpful’ and began counting. If Dipper had done his math correctly, (which was incredibly difficult with numbers echoing in his head) he'd been counting for four days straight. It wasn't as charitable as Bill seemed to think.

Then, a new voice. A child's voice.

“Shut up for a second, will you?” Dipper hissed.

A beat.

_“Three hundred fourty-two thousand nine hundred eighty-one...”_

Dipper could barely hear his own hoofsteps over the insistent droning, but too tired to argue, as he often was these days, he strained his fuzzy ears and caught a few words.

“If you play a game with me, I'll give you some of my pants candy!”

_“Three hundred fourty-three thousand and nine, three hundred fourty-three thousan-_ **_oh_ ** _. Oh… ohohohohoho!”_ Bill’s angular form disappeared, but his voice remained, _“Pine tree, pine tree, pine tree, I think we’ve found ourselves someone to play with! OH!- Make that TWO someones!”_

His eyes widened and his heart stopped, trying to get a peek at his saviors.

“I don’t want your pants candy, Greg. I thought you ran out anyways.”

In the shadows of the wood, Dipper stepped forward. Not enough that the two could see him, but enough that he could see the both of them. The child, presumably called Greg, stood tall enough to reach the other’s rib cage, though with a tea kettle on his head, he reached his companion’s shoulder. He wore green, puffy overalls and held a matching green frog, who seemed less than enthused with the situation. In addition, he wore a brown leaf on his upper lip, possibly stuck on with tree sap.

“I found more! And- oh oh oh! Wirt, what if _I_ ate a piece of candy? The sticky taffy kind. That way, I’ll be quiet.”

The other boy, Wirt, was certainly still a child, but less of a child than Greg. He wore a pointy red cone on his head, along with a blue cloak decorated with brass buttons. If he stood up straight, he’d appear tall, but as it was, Wirt slouched and he looked about average height. He appeared about Dipper’s age, or older, somewhere around fifteen.

These two wouldn't have been intriguing to most, but to him, they were an outright anomaly. Rarely did Dipper come upon wanderers like himself. The few that did strode aimlessly and silently, never a word spoken. Save for the Woodsman, of course, who he’d been warned not to mess with. Bill had told him he worked for The Beast, and while most were scared of the man, Dipper felt sorry for him. Probably because he knew how he felt. Regardless, it had been ages since Dipper saw someone new traveling the labyrinth that was The Unknown.  

_“I want them,”_ Bill hissed in both of his large deer ears, and Dipper swore he felt cold breath against his neck.

Dipper clenched his fists at his sides, his soft fur caught between his fingers, “Are you serious?” he questioned Bill in disbelief. After so long… children, self aware children, the first people he’d seen since leaving Gravity Falls that didn’t have that dazed look in their eyes… they were the answer?

As if he sensed Dipper’s hesitance to prey on the two, he screeched, _“I WANT THEM!”_

Dipper's ears rung, “Fine… fine,” Dipper grumbled and stepped forward, waiting for a chance to approach the two. When the duo was only a few feet away from him, he let loose a faux yelp, stumbling forward on his skinny deer legs. He’d done this act plenty of times, he knew how to be somewhat convincing.

Wirt's hand shot forward in front of Greg. He seemingly misjudged where the kid's chest was, smacking him in the forehead instead and knocked the tea kettle to the dirt. Evidently, the younger of the two had won the argument, as taffy fell from his mouth onto the leaves. As long as it didn't get into Dipper's fur, he didn't really care.

Dipper had planned to wait for one of the two to say something, but the oldest seemed to be in shock and the youngest paid no mind to Dipper, instead staring down sadly at the wasted treat. It seemed as though conversation fell into Dipper's metaphorical lap, if it was going to happen. He laughed awkwardly. He never was a great actor. Rubbing the back of his neck, he began to speak, “Sorry if I startled you, I think I stepped in a rabbit hole or something…”

After a moment, the one called Wirt spoke, his hand lifted to pinch the bridge of his reddened nose, “Why am I surprised? After everything, I really shouldn't be surprised to see a freaking centaur.”

Biting back something along the lines of a, “ _I'm fine, thanks for asking,_ ” he instead opted for, “Cervitaur. I’m a deer, not horse,” Dipper had always been a know-it-all and regardless of how much time had passed and how much of himself he had lost, he was still Dipper. Really, he'd only recently been informed of the existence of a word for a deer-human, but he'd never had much else to show off than his knowledge.

Wirt, only just then processing that Dipper was sentient, let his hand fall and eyes widen once again, “Oh, yeah, geez, sorry. It’s been a weird couple of days, uh-” he fidgeted and swung his arms randomly and awkwardly.

“Do you eat grass?” Greg interrupted, setting the tea kettle back on his head, “If you were a real deer, you’d eat grass,” he looked around his surroundings with a frown and started marching off path.

“I-”

“Here!” Greg pulled out a handful of grass out from the ground and shoved it into Dipper’s hands.

“Eheh…” Dipper looked to Wirt for help, but he did nothing but roll his eyes at the kid, “Um, sorry, I’m only half deer. I eat mostly fruit. Kind of a compromise, something that both deer and humans eat.”

Greg frowned down at the grass in his hand, Dipper dropping it a moment later, “That’s weird. You’re weird.”

Wirt stepped in, smiling tightly and pulling Greg’s shoulder back, “Sorry about him. Um, if it’s any consolation, he thinks weird is a compliment.”

“I have a sister like that, no worries,” Dipper waved it off with an equally tight smile as shrill words echoed in his head.

_“PLEASE, it’s been AGES since you saw Shooting Star. You HAVE a sister or you HAD a sister? By now, you should be disowned!”_

“-sister isn’t nearly as annoying as Greg. Oh! Right, right. Um, introductions. I’m Wirt. Wirt, not Wart. Like, with an ‘I.’ This is Greg, obviously. He’s uh, my half brother. His dad’s evidently less creative with names.”

It took Dipper a moment to catch up with Wirt’s words. After all, it had been essentially centuries since he’d had real conversation with anyone but the demon in his head. He was a bit out of practice, not to imply he’d ever been skilled in conversation. He laughed nervously, “No, it’s a cool name, man. Uh, I’m not any better, I mean,” he offered his hand, only then taking notice that he _had_ been right. Despite him being a freaking _deer,_ Wirt stood taller than him by a good ten centimeters, “Dipper Pines.”

_“Nice to meet you_

_My name's Dipper Pines, P-P-Pines, Pines, Pines_

_Nice to meet you._

_P-p-pines, Pines, Pines.”_

Under normal circumstances, Dipper would have scolded Bill. Rather, complained at him, but he couldn’t exactly argue with his ‘friend’ with the brothers standing right in front of him.

Wirt shook his hand, smile still tight, “Oh, I guess we can both be, uh, part of the weird name club,” the look on his face told Dipper he already regretted speaking, so he let it go.

“Yeah! Ha! So… are you guys out here by yourselves? You going anywhere specifically?” he prodded.

Wirt looked genuinely staggered by the question, pausing to think for a moment, “Yeah… we’re out here alone. Um…” he thought for another few seconds, “We’re trying to get home.”

Dipper raised an eyebrow, “And where’s that?”

He looked at Dipper with a little frown, “That’s funny, I’m having trouble remembering. Hey, Greg-” he turned around to find Greg about fifteen meters down the path, “Greg!” he shouted with undertones of a groan, “Sorry, it was nice to meet you-”

_“DON’T LET HIM LEAVE.”_

“I can help you get home,” his words ran together and his eyes shut tightly as if it were painful to say. And god, was it ever. Over time, his morals had crumbled to dust, yet… this felt different. Dirty.

Wirt paused, “You can?”

He swallowed and opened his eyes, “I know the way to a train station. It’s sort of far away.”

_“What are you up to, kid?”_

“They probably have maps and um- Obviously transportation.”

_“..you’re stalling. You’re STALLING?!”_

“So that’s probably your best chance at getting back home.”

_“AFTER THIS LONG, YOU’RE_ **_STALLING?!?!_ ** _”_

Wirt stood up straighter, “That- that sounds perfect. I’ll- I’ll just grab Greg and we can go?”

“Yeah, sounds good,” his words became faster and more run-together. Wirt didn’t seem to notice, running along the pathway to chase Greg down.

Dipper turned in the other direction, glaring at a carving of Bill in a tree. It glowed red.

_  
“You are NOT going to botch this up, Pine Tree. Go ahead, stall all you want, act like you have principles. I can wait. But DO NOT let them leave this forest. We both have something to lose, here. You’ll have a lot more to lose if you aggravate me.”_

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> After almost a YEAR of reworking the plot over and over again, I've finally started the actual "writing" aspect of writing. As with most stories, things will be clearer and clearer as the fic progresses.
> 
> It's worth mentioning that Dipper does, in fact, have deer ears, but he didn't at the time I commissioned the cover art. Whoops. 
> 
> Because I'm one of those fic writers, every chapter title is a song relating to the chapter. This chapter would be Tiger Mountain Peasant Song by Fleet Foxes.
> 
> Shoutout to my sister who pesters me daily about posting this. She's the real Dipper to my Mabel.


End file.
